


Never Been Kissed

by Filmsterr



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angst, Break Up, Hurt/Comfort, Jock Dean, M/M, Misunderstandings, Nerd Castiel, Prom, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-30
Updated: 2017-06-30
Packaged: 2018-11-21 09:09:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11354301
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Filmsterr/pseuds/Filmsterr
Summary: It was the biggest news in school, of course. Castiel might be an outcast, but he wasn’t deaf, for God’s sake. He’d heard all the drama, all about the big fight on the front lawn of the school, the names that had been tossed out and the accusations made.Cassie Robinson had dumped Dean Winchester.Hard.





	Never Been Kissed

**Author's Note:**

> This has a very heavy 90's teen movie vibe to me, personally, hence the title. 
> 
> Also apologies in advance that Cassie is a bit of a bitch in this one. I actually really like her as a character, but I'm sick of using Lisa all the time and having to demonize her (even though I liked her significantly less on the show). 
> 
> Anyways. Should I be working on my WIPs? Yes. But here you go anyway. Kudos and comments mean the world! xoxox

Castiel ran away from the building so fast, he nearly tripped over a potted plant and himself several times on the way out. This was probably due mostly to the fact that tears were obscuring his vision far beyond a point that would make running a safe, viable option; but that wasn’t what was going through his mind at the moment. 

All he could think of was how stupid he’d been. What an idiot. 

He should have seen this coming from a mile away. 

And he _did,_ which is what made him even more frustrated by the whole thing. When Dean had invited him to the prom-- Dean Winchester, his opposite in all ways physical and otherwise-- he’d known it was… i-it was was too much to ask for. Especially in a simple existence like his. But he’d allowed himself to be swept up, swept off his feet, and where did that get him?

Outside of some low-rent function hall in Lawrence, Kansas, sobbing to himself over lost opportunities. 

From the very first moment, he should have known better. 

But that wasn’t an option when Dean was smiling at him with that helpless, come-love-me stare. 

\--

It was the biggest news in school, of course. Castiel might be an outcast, but he wasn’t deaf, for God’s sake. He’d heard all the drama, all about the big fight on the front lawn of the school, the names that had been tossed out and the accusations made. 

Cassie Robinson had dumped Dean Winchester. _Hard_. 

That much he knew. That much everyone knew. However, having had no romantic dealings himself during his tenure as a high school student, Castiel had neither the necessary experiences to compare upon nor the desire to understand. 

All he had on that particular afternoon was a healthy level of disdain toward his brother Gabriel, who had gone an gotten himself infected with mononucleosis, so that now Castiel had to take his place as the official coaching assistant of the boys’ soccer team. So now, instead of going home and secluding himself in his bedroom and cracking open a new copy of his favorite book, as was his typical Friday night practice, he found himself crammed onto a sweaty school bus, with 24 rough and rowdy boys (most of whom didn’t care for him, if they knew he existed at all), headed for some rival town more than  hour away from where they were. 

He sighed deeply, climbing up onto the steps of the rickety old bus. This was going to take a lot of chore swapping for Gabriel to make up to him. 

A stray wad of paper flew into Castiel’s head, and a chorus of laughter erupted from a cluster of uniform-clad boys. 

He sighed again. _A lot_ of chore swapping. 

His first assigned task by Coach Singer was to take attendance and make sure that every boy was on the bus. The older man had unceremoniously shoved a clipboard into his chest and rattled this off before he was distracted by a couple of troublemakers across the field and went to give them a stern talking-to.

So Castiel paced down the aisle slowly, checking off names as he went. Whenever he stopped to ask the name of an athlete, he was met with silent glares- so for some he just guessed which name belonged to who, and moved as quickly as he could to avoid incident. 

When he reached the final row at the back of the vehicle, he found the single-person seat next to the emergency exit and sunk into it, making himself as small as possible. He had almost completely blocked out the world, when a voice made him raise his head.

“You’re not Gabe.”

It was Dean Winchester. He was sitting in the seat opposite Castiel, also alone. The row in front of them was devoid of people, so it felt like they had an element of privacy surrounding them.

Castiel almost let a chuckle slip out, but it died nervously, caught in his throat. “No, I’m not.”

It had come out a little more ornery than he’d intended, but Dean didn’t seem to mind or notice. He only raised his eyebrows. “Where’s he?”

“At home in bed with mononucleosis.”

Dean pursed his lips, considering this. “Mono. That sucks.”

“I suspect he’s having more fun than I am,” Cas griped in a low voice, mostly to himself. 

Dean laughed at this, a loud bark of a thing, and Castiel didn’t know why but it made him feel rather good to have made Dean laugh, though they’d never met before. Probably the altruistic side in him, he imagined. Dean was in pain, he’d been through a fairly public break-up only hours before. So providing him with laughter was a small way to ease his human suffering. 

Yes, Castiel surmised, that must have been it. 

Dean was still looking over at him, his emerald eyes sparking a bit in the afternoon sun. Castiel didn’t know what else he was supposed to say, so for some reason he found himself spitting out, “I’m his brother.”

Dean quirked an eyebrow and gave Castiel a once-over. “Michael?”

“No, Castiel.”

“Castiel…” Dean repeated the name, slowly, like he liked the way it sounded. Most people thought it was weird, and Castiel certainly held a grudge against his parents for skipping over all the other angels with perfectly _normal_ names…. but that was a different issue. Right now Castiel was trying to figure out where he should be looking, because Dean was still staring at him (kind of. Kind of staring through him) and he didn’t want to seem rude by staring back, but also didn’t want to seem like he was avoiding eye contact. 

He had never been terribly good at these kinds of things. It was probably why he spent his Friday nights the way he did. 

“What year are you?'

“Hm?” Castiel asked, having only been half listening. The bus had taken off and they were now chugging along at a healthy speed, the two of them still alone back in their secluded little area. 

Dean’s lips parted into a smile that had Castiel wondering how Cassie Robinson could have had any desire to break up with him. “What grade are you in?”

“Oh. I’m a junior.”

“Huh,” Dean clucked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. He was silent for another few seconds, before he said, “It’s weird that I’ve never seen you around.”

Castiel only shrugged. “It’s a big school. Maybe you have.”

Dean peered over at him sideways and gave him a funny look. Castiel felt like squirming under the scrutiny. “Maybe,” he said at last, but Castiel couldn’t help feeling like it was an unfinished thought. 

Again, he found himself unsure what to do next. Should he wait to see if Dean was planned on asking any more questions? Or think of something of his own to add to the conversation?

Frankly, the whole thing made him feel quite ill-at-ease, so after waiting what he thought was an appropriate amount of time and finding no further inquiries came from Dean, he reached into his bag and pulled out a thick book, flipping to the page where his bookmark rested peacefully. 

“What’re you reading?” 

Castiel hadn’t even had time to finish reading a single paragraph. He raised his head to answer and gasped as he did. Dean was leaning across the aisle, significantly impinging on his own personal space. Castiel inched closer to the window, allowing a margin of space to draw between them. 

“It’s, em,” he coughed a little and held the book up so Dean could see, “ _Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy_.”

Dean nodded, though he clearly wasn’t familiar with it. “Is it any good?”

“Yes, I actually-- _oh_ , sure.”

Dean had reached out a hand and raised his eyebrows, which Castiel had realized after a moment of slow processing was meant to ask, _Can I see?_ So he handed the book tentatively over and let Dean rake his eyes over it. 

“Hmm. Looks interesting…” Dean mused, passing the hardcover back across the aisle. Their hands brushed just slightly when he did, which added another layer of anxiety on top of what Castiel was already feeling. He wished that he could be back in his room right now, alone, and he also really didn’t. 

“Do you… read?” he tried to ask, and wanted to slap himself in the face almost immediately for sounding so stupid. 

Dean didn’t take any offense, though. “Not really,” he shrugged, looking a little disappointed at his own answer, “I just don’t have a lot of free time y’know, between school and practice and…” His voice petered off there, almost turned a little sad, and Castiel was able to fill in the blank space on his own.

Dean shook his head and returned his gaze to Castiel. “But I actually liked some of the books we got assigned to read in school, you know? Like last year we read _Slaughter House 5_ , and I really liked that.”

“Vonnegut is an excellent writer. He has a lot of books that you could continue on with,” said Castiel with a smile, “if that were something you’d be interested in.”

“Maybe I will,” answered Dean, baring his teeth in a sparkling grin. 

The hour-plus-long ride had seemed a daunting task to Castiel before he stepped onto the bus. In reality, he was amazed how quickly it flew by. Multiple times, he tried again to open his book, and every time he was pulled away by Dean asking him some question, or once when he pointed out a “weird-looking dog” (it was a coyote, and Castiel told him so).

When they disembarked the bus, Dean immediately followed the rest of the team where they were herding onto the field, while Castiel stayed at the bus to help unload equipment and water bottles. He didn’t get another chance to talk to Dean before the athlete went out onto the field- not that he would initiate conversation anyway, he’d been letting Dean steer that boat the whole ride up here- but he was sending positive thoughts his way the whole time. 

Never in his life had there been a single sporting event that Castiel had given any thought to (with the extreme exception of Olympic swimming during the years of his burgeoning sexuality), but today he was surprised to find himself not only watching the game, but invested. He was actually rooting for his school’s team, and Dean in particular. 

It would be just the pick-up Dean needed, he thought, after the devastating blow of losing his girlfriend. 

Yes, that was why Castiel cheered so loudly when the winning goal was scored. For Dean. For his self-confidence. 

It was dark when everything was loaded back in and all the players were back on the bus. Castiel returned to his seat in the back, but this time he didn’t move to extract his book from his bag. 

“You know, Gabe never shuts up when he comes to games with us,” Dean piped up, almost out of nowhere. The rest of the bus was all but silent, the players having worn themselves out during the tiresome game. “He’s always _yak-yak-yak_ ing…. I think I like you better.”

He was looking Castiel up and down again, and Castiel was glad that it was dark since he felt a strange heat in his face that he would like to keep obscured. “You think so?”

Dean nodded, and Castiel _hmph_ ed to himself in pleasure. “Well, thank you. But you know, you’re quite talkative yourself.”

“I am?”

He sounded genuinely perplexed by this, which made Castiel laugh. He nodded his answer.

“Most people don’t think so,” Dean told him. “That’s why Cassie broke up with me. She said I never talked to her anymore.”

Castiel, yet again, found himself lost for the right words for the moment. Why would Dean choose to confide especially in him? He didn’t have the first idea, so instead he pointed at a farm outside of Dean’s window, which kept them both satisfactorily occupied for the time being. 

They pulled into the parking lot at nearly nine at night, and Castiel was surprised to see that he was actually feeling a little… disappointed. He’d enjoyed talking to Dean on this long bus ride and, since the other boy would be graduating soon, it wasn’t something he foresaw happening again. He was just about to say as much when Dean turned around and locked eyes with him, suddenly focused and rather awake. “How are you getting home?”

Castiel started in surprise. “I was just planning to walk,” he confessed. 

“Let me drive you.”

Castiel thought to protest the offer, but in reality it sounded much better than his plan. As he directed Dean towards the final turn onto his street, and the athlete pulled to stop in front of his house, Cas smiled. This had been a uniquely pleasant experience, and he wanted to tell Dean how much he had enjoyed their conversation. He watched as the other boy drummed his fingers along the dashboard for a few seconds, before he began, “Well, Dean, I can’t--”

Suddenly Dean turned to face Castiel in his seat, his eyes gone a little wide and his voice intense. “Cas,” and he didn’t know where that nickname had come from, “are you going to prom next week?”

“I-- I, erm,” Castiel spluttered awkwardly, “I hadn’t given it any thought, I guess.”

The smile that came over Dean Winchester’s face right then was like heaven on Earth. It was slow and sweet and soft, and it really made Castiel fell like he wouldn’t have wanted to be anywhere else in the world right then. 

“You should come with me,” he said at last, like he’d just remembered the end of his own thought. 

Castiel felt at a loss for words. Surely, he must be kidding. “Dean, I--”

“Look, I know it sounds a little crazy,” interrupted Dean, “but come on, Cas. I’ve really enjoyed talking to you tonight.”

“And I you,” murmured Castiel in agreement. He was beginning to feel quite put on the spot. 

“So let’s keep talking. And then next week, we can do it with some shitty music playing in the background and a mediocre plate of food in front of you.” Dean cracked a very large grin that was somewhat self-deprecating. He looked over at Castiel, who was feeling incredibly anxious, and let out a small sigh. “Honestly, you’d be doing me a huge favor. Save me the embarrassment of going alone.”

Prom was very, _very_ outside of Castiel’s comfort zone. It wasn’t… It wasn’t something something he ever considered. It wasn’t for people like him. It was for the Deans and the Cassies of the world, to revel in their final days of high school glory. Castiel knew that his own best days were still ahead of him, so he didn’t mind skipping out on these pedantic, juvenile functions that everyone else seemed so caught up in. 

And besides, it wasn’t like anyone would have wanted him there anyways. 

Except for Dean, apparently. Castiel didn’t know how that made him feel, but Dean was still looking over at him with an expression that very much conveyed hopefulness. 

“As friends?” he finally asked in response to the invitation.

Dean sighed and leant back, looking very much relieved. “As friends,” he promised. 

\--

And that was it, that was how Castiel had got himself here: crouched behind a bush in the parking lot next to the highway. How he’d become the biggest, lovesick idiot in the school. It was just… it was all so easy to believe. 

When Dean texted him cute things to say goodnight, and good morning. 

When their hands brushed against each other on the front seat of Dean’s car.

When he told Cas (the nickname was sticking) how handsome he looked in his suit. 

They’d actually spent the better part of the past nine days together, Dean trying to prove to Cas that sacrificing his Saturday night to the whims of a truly awful local DJ could be on some level “worth it”. And though Castiel hadn’t even been truly persuaded of that fact, he had enjoyed the persuading. Dean’s charm supply seemed never-ending, and Castiel had quite enjoyed being the center of his focus for the past week, for whatever reason that had been. 

It was flattering, to say the least. And if he were being honest, it had almost made Castiel think for a moment that Dean might…

A sob caught in his throat. No, it was no use thinking like that anymore. That he was he got himself down here. 

Here physically, lurking behind a shrub in the parking lot outside a depressing building in downtown Lawrence; but also here mentally, with a genuine broken heart to his name. 

Everything had been fine when they arrived at the dance. Castiel had practically had to shove his mother off of him, with her endless cooing and preening. They drove together in Dean’s car, which he fondly called his baby and of which he was immensely proud. 

As they walked in together, past all their teachers and Coach Singer, not to mention all of the other students, it would have been impossible to pretend that Castiel was unaware of the attention they garnered. It was as if all eyes went to them, and the attention began to make Castiel feel ill at ease, to say the least. 

They sat with some of Dean’s non-jock friends, which was already a big load off of Cas’ shoulders. Joanna and Garth and Anna were all lovely people, and very warm towards him. They even made a few jokes that they were glad he was at their table instead of Cassie Robinson…. Castiel felt bad, but he couldn’t stop himself from laughing at that. 

It was strange, the way that everything felt so… easy. It had never been like that for Castiel before: to be laughing and joking and _talking_ so freely with a group of people. He couldn’t believe that it was him sitting there with these nice, wonderful humans. Couldn’t believe the way that sitting next to Dean could make him feel so damn carefree. 

Another choked-up cry hiccuped inside his throat, and he swallowed it down. He heard the sound of hurried footsteps shuffling out onto the pavement behind him. “Shit,” he murmured to himself, panicked. He shrank down into himself and hid himself further behind the bush. 

Anyway, everything had been great and perfect. Dean hadn’t made him dance (yet), and the food wasn’t nearly as bad as he’d feared. All in all, it was a Saturday evening that was-- shockingly-- actually an improvement over staying inside by himself.

He leant over to where Dean sat next to him at the table and told him just that, in a playful whisper. 

Dean turned to face him, a delighted twinkle in his eyes. “You think so?”

Castiel nodded emphatically. It was hard to remember that he’d barely known Dean for a week, when he felt more comfortable around that boy than he had around anyone else for a long time. 

Dean leaned in, once again encroaching on Castiel’s personal space, so that his head was right next to Castiel’s. For a second, Cas felt the breath catch in his throat. 

But then Dean reached out a hand and tousled Castiel’s hair in a jovial, platonic gesture. “I’m glad you’re havin’ fun. I’ll go get us a couple of glasses of punch.”

“Alright,” muttered Castiel, trying to hide his disappointment. “I have to run to the restroom, I’ll be right back. “

It was on his walk to the men’s room that he was approached by a familiar figure. He was in the hallway, all alone, when she stepped in front of him, blocking his path. “Hi there. It’s Castiel, right?”

He stuttered nervously. Cassie didn’t wait for an answer. “You’re here with Dean, aren't you? Are you having fun?”

She was beautiful. Dark skin and big, curly hair; she had eyes that sparkled just like Dean’s and her smile was maybe even more captivating. They must have been the perfect couple, Castiel thought sadly to himself. 

“I hope you are having fun,” she said, and Castiel detected a change in her tone of voice. She moved in closer, wrapped a hand around his arm and gave it a light squeeze. “You see, I can tell that you’ve got a little crush on Dean. And that’s fine, I can’t blame you-- I mean, he’s totally gorgeous.”

And despite his efforts not to, Castiel couldn’t stop himself from blushing as she spoke. Cassie’s teeth bared in a smile that didn’t make him feel very good at all. “See?” she went on. “You know what I’m talking about. But I just hate to think of you getting your heart crushed because Dean… well, he’s still in love with me.”

Castiel kept his eyes fixed on the tacky rug beneath his feet. Cassie rubbed her hand gently along his forearm, a direct contrast to the sourness of her words. 

“Yeah, I just needed to give him a little reminder of his feelings for me, and I knew he’d come running back,” she continued, and there wasn’t a single trace of doubt in her voice. “Which he is, of course. God, he’s been staring at me all night, I wouldn’t be surprised if we went home together… actually, you might want to find yourself a ride home, that’d be awesome.”

Already Castiel could feel the need to go outside, to get away from this. She was right, of course, and he was mortified to think that he might have been embarassing himself with Dean’s friends by acting like he belonged. 

Cassie must have seen all this, must have read it on his face. “Aw, honey, don’t be sad. I mean, it’s not like you ever really had a chance, right? You knew that. Dean, he’s… perfect. And we’re perfect together.”

She sighed once, in a pitying way. “I hope you see what I mean. I do appreciate you coming with him. It was actually a really cute gesture to make me jealous.  Ridiculous…” she sized him up, from head to toe, “but cute.”

And with a final squeeze on his she left him on his own, there in the hallway next to the bathrooms, staring off into nothing. She hadn’t told him anything new, anything he didn’t already know. But still, to hear someone say the words out loud, it was like driving a stake into his empty chest. 

Castiel hadn’t even realized he had feelings for Dean-- or maybe he’d known, but didn’t want to fully admit to himself-- and it was only as he did, in that very moment, that he began to see how completely foolish even the idea of that was.

Of course Dean wouldn’t be interested in him. Of course he was just waiting to go back to Cassie, so that the natural order of things could be restored: the beautiful with the beautiful, and Castiel off on his own.

None of this was new information but he was absolutely overwhelmed right then, so much so that he needed to run out into the parking lot before anyone could see the tears that would inevitably fall. So now he was outside, hiding behind a plant and trying to steady himself before anyone could spot him, and--

“Cas?” a voice asked in a normal tone from the other side of his hiding spot. “Castiel, are you out here?”

Obviously, he wasn’t going to give himself away. The only thing worse than Dean finding him crying like a little baby would be Dean finding him crying like a little baby _in a bush_. Like a damn lunatic. 

He sniffled quietly and willed Dean to go back inside, just for a few more minutes so that Castiel could work up the nerve to tell him that he was leaving. 

“Ca- _as_ ,” Dean called out again, and Castiel could tell he was moving closer, but he didn’t know what to do. Maybe if could he just run in the other direction-

“Cas, you weirdo, what are you doing back there?” Too late. He’d been spotted. “I was looking for you, you just dis-- hey, are you crying?”

Castiel had stood to his feet and brushed the dirt off of his tuxedo. He sniffled again, wiped his nose on his sleeve and kept his eyes away from Dean’s. Apparently, none of this was working to hide his tears from Dean. 

“What’s wrong?” He reached a hand out to touch Castiel’s arms, and it was so sweet and gentle. 

Castiel moved back, away from the touch. “I’m fine,” he answered brusquely, still refusing to make eye contact. 

Dean stepped toward him and laughed nervously. “It doesn’t look like you’re fine. What happened? You can tell me, Cas.”

He could, he was sure. Dean would listen and understand and be kind when he told Castiel that yes, he and Cassie were indeed perfect together and yes, it would be great if he could find his own way home tonight. But Cas didn’t want that. He didn’t want to feel any worse or any more pitied than he already did. So instead he just straightened his suit jacket and muttered softly to the ground, “I’m going to go, now.”

Dean sounded shocked. “Wait, what? No. Why are you leaving?”

Castiel raised his eyes slightly, so that he was staring directly at Dean’s chest. But he didn’t offer any explanation.

But instead of just accepting that and moving on, Dean doubled down. “If you’re leaving, I’m leaving.”

“No, that’s alright, I’m…” He didn’t want to have to say it, but there seemed to be no other way. “I can walk home and then… you can stay… with Cassie.”

Dean looked at Castiel like he were crazy. “And just why would I want to do that?”

God _damn_ it, he was just refusing to make this easy. At last Castiel looked Dean square in the eyes and before he could think twice, he was spouting off, “Because you two are perfect for each other and you just needed space to see that before you go running back, and she knows it and I know it and you know it too Dean, and I’m only making myself look like a fool the more I stay here and pretend that I belong with you so I think it’s time for me to--”

And even though his eyes were open, and he saw Dean moving towards him, in no way was he expecting to feel Dean’s lips connecting with his own. His brain instantly clicked off at the soft feeling of his plush, pink lips. No tongue, nothing too provocative. Just a short, chaste peck. 

“You’re cute when you’re over thinking,” Dean told him with a smile, still close enough to breathe in Castiel’s air.

Castiel was, unsurprisingly, at a loss for words. Eventually, he managed to say, “...you didn’t need to do that, Dean.”

Dean cracked a cocky grin. “I’m very much aware of that,” he replied, leaning in to close the gap between them for a second time. Before their mouths met again, though, he snapped backward. “Wait, did you not want me to?”

Castiel hemmed awkwardly, biting on his lower lip. He did want Dean to kiss him-- he very, very, very much wanted that-- but not if it was only because he felt he had to, or if he was going to go off with Cassie regardless at the end of the night. 

He took too long in getting all this out of his mouth, however; so that all Dean saw was him nervously biting on his lip and teetering from one foot to the other. “Oh, Jesus,” he cried, backing away from Castiel, “I’m so sorry, man, I-- I must’ve misread the vibe. I swear, I thought that’s what this whole last week was--”

“Wait, Dean, no,” Castiel cried out, reaching a hand out to grab at him. As he made contact with Dean’s arm, though, he saw Cassie Robinson crossing the parking lot in the distance. His eyes tracked her movement and he withdrew his hand nervously. 

Dean must have followed his line of sight. He moved his gaze curiously between the two of them, Castiel and Cassie, and finally landed it on the nervous hand frozen mid-air net to him. “Cassie? Why… wait. Did she say something to you?”

Again, Castiel hemmed. It certainly wasn’t his place to get involved in their business together; and, more importantly, if they were going to rekindle their romance tonight, Castiel didn’t want to ruin his chance at friendship with Dean by bad-mouthing her. “Ah…” he croaked anxiously, “it’s wasn’t…”

Dean didn’t wait for him to finish the thought. He held a finger in the air, angrily, a heavy glare settling on his features. “Wait here,” he commanded and turned on his heels, marching over toward Cassie before Castiel would protest. 

Cassie was smiling when Dean approached. A victorious smile, smug, which was very quickly wiped away as soon as Dean began talking. Actually, ‘talking’ didn’t seem quite accurate for what he was doing. His volume was low, while she could be heard shouting from across the parking lot (and perhaps from the highway, Cas mused to himself) but the anger that seethed from Dean’s body radiated outwards in waves. 

Castiel watched them-- mutely, paralyzed-- from his spot next to the bush. It was about five minutes of intense communication; and when it ended, Dean turned around and started walking back toward Castiel, and Cassie was glaring at him over Dean’s shoulder, looking like she had murder in her heart. 

“Come on,” Dean announced when he was close enough, “we’re getting out of here.”

“But, I-- Dean, where--” Castiel started to protest. Dean walked right up to him and grabbed his hand, intertwining their fingers in a way that would have melted Castiel’s heart if it hadn’t been so rushed. 

Dean stopped his feet, momentarily, and took advantage of the moment to look into Castiel’s azure eyes. He sighed, loudly, and released some of the tension from his shoulders. “Castiel, I think you’re so great, and I’m fuckin’ into you, and don’t listen to anyone if they tell you differently. Okay?”

He waited patiently for Castiel to respond, his own eyes wide and humble and asking for Cas to understand. So how could he possibly have responded any differently?

“Okay,” Castiel sighed, the smile returning to his lips for the first time since he’d run outside of the building. Dean’s own lips curled up at the corners, and he leaned in for another chaste peck. This time, Castiel was ready, and he enjoyed it even more knowing that it was coming from Dean’s heart. 

“Great,” Dean said when they separated, as he began to tug Castiel by the hand toward his car. “Now all I want in the world right now is to go out with my prom date for a couple of hamburgers. Do you think we can do that?”

He didn't wait for a 'yes' from Castiel. No, he just continued chugging along across the asphalt, even though Castiel was slowing his speed to a shuffle. “But, um, Dean?”

“What?”

“I’m a vegetarian.”

Dean halted abruptly. His grip loosened on Castiel's hand, briefly, before he turned around and addressed him very seriously. “Okay, you know what? For you, I can do that. I’ll let that slide, but I just-- that’s gotta be the last bad news for tonight, alright? I can’t take anymore.”

He tugged on Cas' hand to draw him in, and laid another several kisses on his lips. Castiel blushed a deep red, his head spinning from all the attention. "Okay, Dean. That sounds good." 


End file.
